


A Christmas Miracle (Musical?)

by nogitsune_lichen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Caroling, Dancing and Singing, Fluff, Getting Together, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Mistletoe, Musical References, Stiles and Derek sing Christmas songs against their will, Witch Curses, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 07:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9062416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nogitsune_lichen/pseuds/nogitsune_lichen
Summary: Music from literally nowhere started to fade in, the familiar holiday tune echoed through the loft--
“I really can’t stay,” Stiles sang, much to his surprise. 
“Baby it’s cold outside,” Derek called back.
Oh dear god. They really were cursed; they were stuck in a freaking Christmas musical.
---
Originally posted for the eternalstereksecretsanta 2016!





	

**Author's Note:**

> I had a blast writing this for @voubledision and thanks as always to Hannah who reads everything I write to make sure it's good for you guys.

“Did you really need to smart mouth that witch?”

That was the first thing Stiles heard when he woke up. With a groan he rolled over on what he realized was Derek’s couch. Its scratchy material was familiar and distinct. He was tired and mostly he just remembered all the running they did.

Just the thought of it made his bones hurt.

There was a growl from somewhere but Stiles just gave his middle finger in that general direction before he tried to go back to sleep. However he didn’t make it very far; the couch dipped near where his feet were curled up and a hand shook his ankle rather violently.

Stiles flailed as he sat up, face bitter as he glared at the werewolf, “what?!”

“I think the witch put a spell on us, or me at least,” Derek said.

“Wait-- really?” Stiles asked, his attention directed more at the new problem than his lack of energy.

“Yes really,” Derek rolled his eyes, “I, uh, was carrying you back to my car since you were knocked out and when I said something about you being silent... I started singing Silent Night against my will.”

Obviously there was a very serious problem with his ears, or maybe his attention problem has gotten to a whole new level. Stiles was in some serious denial that the Derek Hale sang Silent Night against his will. How did Derek even know what a Christmas song was? He doesn’t even like colors, he shouldn’t like Christmas; or Christmas songs for that matter.

The only reason there was a crappily decorated Christmas tree in the loft was because Erica, Boyd, and Isaac just put it up one day and forced Derek to not take it down. So really Derek had no spirit, it was the rest of the pack, it made no sense for him to sing holiday songs.

“Yeah,” Derek said.

“Should we try--?”

“No! No, not again, can we just do research here?”

Stiles chewed on his lower lip and pulled his phone out from his pocket. It was nearly nine, his father wasn’t booked for any late shifts until after Christmas, which meant he could finally have some time with his dad that wasn’t a life or death situation. With a hand through his hair Stiles shook his head.

“I really can’t st--”

A lump in his throat formed before he could finish his sentence. Suddenly moving seemed impossible and this buzz ran through his body. Kind of like goose bumps if he had to describe it. Then the lump was gone and he and Derek were standing in unison, backing away from each other with graceful feet.

He wasn’t the one moving though, it wasn’t him, it was something else.

Then music from literally nowhere started to fade in, the familiar holiday tune echoed through the loft--

“I really can’t stay,” Stiles sang, much to his surprise.

“Baby it’s cold outside,” Derek called back.

Oh dear god. They really were cursed; they were stuck in a freaking Christmas musical.

Somewhere in the back of his head he registered just how good of a singer Derek really was. His voice was smooth and velvety, and this time for real Stiles did get goosebumps from it. Stiles paused and Derek seemed to edge closer, his hand reached out to take Stiles’.

He stepped away with a, “I gotta go away.”

“Baby it’s cold outside.”

“This evening has been….”

“Been hoping that you’d dropped in….”

“....so very nice.”

“....I’ll hold your hands they’re just like ice.”

That line in particular had their hands clasped together, the hold tight like they really meant it. Derek spun him inward until his back was flush with the man’s chest. Though Stiles couldn’t verbalize it, his head was screaming when he felt all that hard muscle pressed up against him. Now was not the time to get a boner even if the mood was just right for one. They swayed to the music that was somehow playing, magically, when the loft door slid open to reveal the betas.

Isaac gasped, Boyd did a facepalm thing, and Erica got out her phone to record whatever was going on. Sadly he and Derek couldn’t do shit about it.

“I wish I knew how….” Stiles sang as he twirled around Derek while his fingers danced across his shoulders.

“Your eyes are like starlight now.”

“....to break this spell.”

In his head he snorted at how ironic that line was.

They danced around each other, chests puffed up with each note they belted out, and Erica was getting the whole damn thing on camera. Every so often he caught the betas either snickering to each other or smirking at them; Stiles wanted to punch them with wolfsbane coated knuckles.

For what felt like hours but was only a minute more they just kept it up; they danced together, sang together, swayed together, the whole nine yards. At one point Derek leaped over the couch in some cool move Stiles could never pull off, but Stiles evened the playing field when he did like twelve of those ballet twirls in a row --which was fucking awesome because outside of the spell he could barely walk without tripping--….

He to fall into Derek’s embrace on the last two lines that they sang together in perfect harmony.

“Baby it’s cold…”

Their faces inched closer and closer until their noses brushed together; his upturned one caught against Derek’s downturned one. Between them their breath mingled and Stiles felt his heart nearly beat out of his chest. From this close he could see the slightest freckling on Derek’s nose. Since when did he have freckles? God were his eyes always this pretty? Did Adonis sculpt those cheekbones?

Yes to all of those.

“Baby it’s cold outside!” They sang with full volume as the magically appearing music died down.

Stiles felt his shoulders sag as control washed over him but his body didn’t move from the very intimate spot in front of Derek. His eyes caught Derek’s hazel ones which were full of fear and uncertainty. All too soon Stiles remembered their mostly-acquaintances-at-best-relationship and how the betas were still just at the door; it made him stumble back, his hand finding his hoodie on the couch with ease.

With a final look at Derek he turned and ran out of the loft figuring home was a lot better than here.

* * *

 

Two days later it was Christmas Eve and Derek and the betas had invited everyone to the loft. It was so very clear the witch made Derek into a Christmas guru or something because this wasn’t normal Sourwolf behavior.

Two days prior when he’d gotten home his father was not only worried sick but confused as all hell why Stiles hadn’t spoken a word. He ended up writing it out on a piece of paper, his father just giving him a tired sound before moving to heat up leftovers. That’s how it was for a while, even hanging out with Scott was unbearable since he was usually the main conversation starter.

Too nervous to break out into song again, they just silently played video games until Scott opted to leave and go hang out with Allison.

So now it was Christmas Eve and Stiles’ father insisted upon going.

“We’re going Stiles. I’d like to meet this ‘pack’ and stuff,” his father said earlier.

Stiles flailed with an angry grunt because he couldn’t speak; that wasn’t fair!

“Meet me in the car or I’m leaving without you.”

Stiles ended up marching to the car just as his dad pulled out, brooding the whole way there, not feeling the Christmas mood in the air. Unlike usual, today there were cars parked along the building, a few he recognized and a few he didn’t. Regardless it was an odd sight to behold. By the time they were halfway up the building the elevator smelled like cider and sugar cookies.

Fucking weird.

The real trip was when he stepped into the loft, which was not only filled with people but it looked like a Martha Stewart Christmas issue threw up everywhere. Popcorn strings, a new and bigger tree, wreaths, stockings, the list goes on. There was even a food table with Christmas-y food items. This had to be a new universe or something of that proportion.

“Jesus Christ, you really know how to pick your friends kiddo,” his father sighed before walking over to where Melissa and Boyd were talking.

Isaac walked over, “before you angrily flail this was Boyd’s idea, Erica’s decoration, and totally against Derek’s wishes.”

He rolled his eyes, flicking Isaac’s ear without remorse. However he was slightly impressed that this was all Boyd’s idea, a silent mastermind. Stiles descended the front steps into the sunken in loft, walking over to Scott who was eating a funny looking reindeer treat and talking to Allison.

“Hey Stiles,” Allison greeted first and Scott gave him a wave.

Stiles smiled, waving back before realizing this party was really going to suck because he couldn’t talk. He ran a frustrated hand down his face before trying to use hand motions to get a “how has it been?” out. Of course Scott looks at him like a confused puppy and Allison shakes her head and walks away.

She’s smart.

“Uh...I don’t know bro. What is the time?”

Stiles shakes his head and tried again, slower this time.

“You want me to get you a drink?”

Stiles groaned and tried again, so much slower it was almost like he wasn’t even moving.

“Are you trying to sit on Santa’s lap?” Scott joked and Stiles didn’t find it funny.

“Really Scott? Sitting on Santa’s--” Stiles finally said, but he was cut off like he couldn’t breathe.

Oh no. Oh shit. He said Santa, there’s like a million songs that have Santa in them. The room went silent, everyone looking around when music started playing. The three betas looked at him and Derek with knowing looks, Erica got out her phone again.

Even though he tried to fight it, and damn it he tried so hard, his legs propelled him towards Derek who also walked towards him looking just as done with this song bullshit. Once they were close enough to whatever the spell wanted they started circling each other, the music picked up and Stiles mentally vomited when he realized what song was playing.

“Santa baby, slip a Rolex under the tree, for me,” Derek sang, voice low and throaty that was doing things to Stiles.

“He’s been an awful good guy,” Stiles added and did his best not to focus on the pack and their wide eyed stares.

“Santa baby, hurry down the chimney tonight,” Derek sang as his hands gripped at Stiles’ waist and pulled him around in a slow lazy dance. Their bodies were swift and light, able to navigate around people and furniture with ease. The lyrics were teasing, going back and forth but this time Derek had the lead part, asking Santa for all these things and Stiles sang back up and encouraged it.

“Think of all the fun you’ve missed,” Stiles sang in a taunting tone, walking backwards while his finger crooked as if to motion for Derek to follow him.

Wow. Now that was cheesy as all hell.

“I think of all the hotties I’ve never kissed,” Derek trilled.

Stiles felt his face heat up, most of the pack gasped and snickered. Once again he wanted to just melt away from this situation. Derek met up with him, their hands linked once again. Stiles didn’t mind, he could savor it for now.

“Next year you’ll be just as good…”

“...then I’ll check you off my Christmas list.”

Stiles wanted to flail because that so was not the lyric and it was making his heart do crazy things in his chest. This damn witch was a conniving little trickster. How did she know? That lyric was no accident and Stiles was about to be very pissed because when the spell broke Derek would not in fact check him off his Christmas list.

That would probably be the last thing he’d ever do.

With that the song sped up a little, Derek and Stiles had made their way pretty much everywhere they could, their dance teasing and condescending. Like a game of cat and mouse. A game of werewolf and human technically. Eventually the song was coming to an end, their bodies flung apart while they went back and forth through the lyrics, soon reunited in the doorway of the kitchen to finish off the song.

“Hurry down the chimney tonight…” Derek sang, his hand coming up slowly until it cupped Stiles’ face.

Oh. Oh holy fuck. Oh holy fucking sweet Jesus on a pogo stick. Stiles was going to die a happy man after this. Derek’s hand was big and warm on his face, like the softest most warm pillow he’s ever allowed his head to rest upon. His eyes fluttered shut for a second before they opened again and met with Derek’s as they both sang the last line.

“Ohhhh, hurry down the chimney...tonight.”

Once again feeling came back to him but he didn’t move. As a matter of fact neither of them did, rather they stood there ignoring the pack who remained silent. That was until their was a cough, then both of them broke the eye contact to look over to the source.

“I don’t mean to be that person,” Boyd started and pointed above them, “but…”

Stiles looked back to Derek before they both craned their necks up to see the hanging plant from the doorway. They have got to be shitting him. Mistletoe. Seriously?! Isn’t that stuff poisonous to werewolves anyways? Who thought that was a good idea? Later he’d have a serious talk with Erica about what plants to use and which not to use when decking the halls or whatnot.

He would’ve put even more thought into his lesson to her if it weren’t for the lips on his.

With a high pitched squeak Stiles’ eyes widened as he looked at Derek’s closed ones. Their noses were mushed together and it was more of a chaste kiss than anything else. It’s not like he had much experience. Something kicked in and his eyes shut. His hands found themselves twisted in the soft material of Derek’s shirt, and he deepened the kiss.

Derek’s hands left his face to intertwine with his hair and pull him in closer. Stiles accepted happily and pressed their bodies flush until the heat between them made him feel drunk. The kiss was warm and soft yet sloppy and meaningful. It was better than all of his wet dreams combined. He was so lost, his brain practically mush by the time a tongue was prodding at his mouth--

“Boys! Cool it,” Lydia called out, breaking the trance they were both in.

Stiles stepped back, his grip lessened on Derek’s shirt but didn’t let go entirely.

Derek’s irises were thin compared to his wide pupils, his face was flushed even into his facial hair, and his lips were red and puffy. Jesus Stiles couldn’t handle this, this level of attractiveness just wasn’t something a mortal could handle. He found the wolf looking at him with similar hungry eyes, it sent a shiver down his spine.

“So...was that the spell or was that you?” Stiles asked, voice raspy.

Derek looked dazed and lost for words, so instead Erica spoke up.

“Oh, yeah that was him alright. I mean we figured out how to break the spell, it was with a kiss, but we figured doing it this way would work. With the whole party and song,” she said like it was no big deal.

“How did you know they’d sing?” Melissa asked.

“It’s Stiles and Derek, they were bound to sing at some point,” Isaac said.

“Also the pinning needed to stop,” Allison added.

Stiles rolled his eyes and Derek had on his typical brooding face. The pack was obviously way more involved in their feelings than they were. With a sigh he moved to hide by the food table, only to have arms wrap around his waist and made it impossible to leave the spot.

Turning back he looked at Derek who looked kind of innocent and vulnerable; Stiles almost let out a cooing sound. With a burst of boldness he linked his hand with Derek’s, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Don’t worry Big Guy, all I want for Christmas is you,” Stiles said, unable to suppress his laugh.

Derek scoffed, “you’re terrible.”

“You don’t mind it.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” 


End file.
